


Sweetheart

by AdrenalineRevolver



Category: Newsies - All Media Types
Genre: Crushes, First Aid, M/M, Minor Injuries, Original Character(s), Sharing a Bed, it's about the yearning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2021-01-27 06:04:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21387319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdrenalineRevolver/pseuds/AdrenalineRevolver
Summary: A newsie with a terrible sense of direction wanders into Brooklyn not long after the refuge is closed down.
Relationships: Spot Conlon/Other(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	Sweetheart

**Author's Note:**

> I know that original character works aren't very popular but I love my son so much I had to share him.  
Here he is drawn by the lovely sneakydraws:  
https://adrenaline-revolver.tumblr.com/post/184416830843/adrenaline-revolver-sneakydraws-a-recent  
The previous Brooklyn leader mentioned, Ace, is her oc. He is also an angel:  
https://sneakydraws.tumblr.com/tagged/newsies-ace

The city was bigger than he remembered. Still, he could figure this one out. Sweets would never hear the end of it if he admitted that he got lost on his first day officially selling again. He’d already sold out for the day thanks to the nice old women who were headed to a suffragette meeting. So at least there was that. 

And at least there was no Spider to snatch him up if he really messed up again. 

Oh! There was the bridge into Brooklyn! He could just head to Sheepshead and pretend to be there to watch the horses until Racetrack was done for the day. 

He never really got why Brooklyn was supposedly so scary. The guys had mentioned some guy who ran the place like a king but he couldn’t be that bad. Sweets wished he could remember his name but he had been so swept up in everything. 

If their new leader was half as nice as the old one he’d be fine.

“Hey Manhattan!” Someone called when he was not fifty feet from the bridge. Spinning around he saw a boy about his age, maybe a bit older, in pink suspenders. Nifty. “Shouldn’t you be sellin’ on your own turf?” 

“Oh, I’m done today. I was just headed to the racetrack to watch the horses.” He continued on and noticed that the guy was still following him. He hoped the guy wasn’t going to start anything; he didn’t really have a lot of cash on him. 

“Watch the horses.” The guy seemed suspicious. “Not even bet on ‘em?” 

“I mean Race might talk me into it, but I don’t really get betting on horses. It’s just too chancy.” Sweets waved his hand. “And I always worry that something is going to happen. Did you know if one of the horses breaks a leg they shoot it? I probably wouldn’t be shot if I broke my leg. Probably.” 

“Probably.” He huffed in laughter. “So then why go?”

Sweets narrowed his eyes. “If I say you’ll laugh.” 

“Probably.” He repeated. “But tell me anyway.”

He crossed his arms and glanced away. “…I got a bit turned around.” 

“You got lost?” He was incredulous. “You’re a newsie! It’s a grid system!”

“Yeah well, it’s not like I’ve been one for a while!” He threw his arms up. ”I had to wake up before dawn, all of these instructions were told to me before I was even awake, and then while I was trying to sell there was a pigeon with a messed up wing so I had to chase it down and see if I could do anything, then I had to change my spot because some people were grossed out by the bird, and then I just got lost!” Sweets realized he was ranting and quickly shoved his hands in his pockets. “Sorry.”

The guy seemed more impressed than anything. “Don’t worry about it. You do realize this isn’t the way to Sheepshead, right?”

Sweets groaned. The sun was starting to go down, Racetrack had probably gone home by now. 

“How about you bunk with in Brooklyn tonight? He suggested. “I ain’t about to send some Manhattanite of wandering into the night, might walk off the docks.” 

“Jack’ll get so worked up…” Sweets bit his lip. Jack hadn’t even been sure that he should try selling on his own again yet. 

He grinned but didn’t comment on it. “I bet he’d be even more worked up if you went missing.”

“You got a point there.” He nodded. “Alright, just for tonight.”

“So what’s your name, Manhattan?” He held out his hand.

“Everyone just calls me Sweets.” He took it with a smile. “What’s yours?”

The guy paused before quickly recovering. “Spot Conlon.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” Sweets thought it was familiar but he couldn’t put his finger on where he’d heard that name before. “I heard you guys got a new leader while I was gone. He won’t mind me staying the night will he?”

Spot stared at him a moment before laughing and throwing an arm around his shoulders. “That hardass? Nah, he won’t mind.” 

“I knew it.” Sweets walked along with a grin. “Everyone back home is so scared of him and of Brooklyn but everyone here is nice. Just kinda rough around the edges and more honest than people in Manhattan. Before I got put in the Refuge my sister and I used to visit Brooklyn all the time. Our mom works in Flatbush. ”

“The Refuge?” Spot’s grip tightened. “How did they let you get thrown in there?”

“Oh it wasn’t the guys’ fault. I just. I didn’t take great care of myself. My sister was working cleaning up this fancy mansion so I lived at the lodging house but there was always someone in worse shape, you know?” He sighed. “I over did it. One day I passed out because I didn’t have enough money to grab food and one of Spider’s guys grabbed me.”

“Manhattan didn’t come get you?” He seemed like he was ready to crack skulls over it. 

“They didn’t know where I was. No one did. They eventually realized that I was either in the Refuge or dead. My sister is the one who found out for sure but she couldn’t come get me. Too young. Too poor. She wasn’t sure how to tell mom.” Sweets decided to try and brighten the conversation. “She worked with you guys for a while! She was born over in Brooklyn so she was more than happy to move back for a bit.”

“Birdy. You’re Birdy’s brother.” He seemed to notice the family resemblance all at once. “She told me you’d gotten out.”

“She has nothing but nice things to say about you guys.” He smiled.

“How’s she doin’ since she got the Bowery job? She says she’s fine.” Spot didn’t outright say that he didn’t believe her but it was implied. 

“Some days can be hard but she’s safe and makes a good deal of money. The main reason I’m working again is so she can maybe find somethin’ a little less demandin.” That and he wanted to help her find something where she could be honest with someone she met when they asked her what she did.

Spot nodded. “Sweet of you. That why you got your name?”

“Well no.” Sweets blushed from the tips of his ears down. “I um, I wasn’t good at making friends. I would just buy candy for people.”

“Bribery always works.” He thought for a moment. “Hey, did that pigeon turn out alright?”

“Oh! Yeah, it had gotten a bit of fishing line wrapped around the wing.” Sweets launched into an explanation of how the bird had gotten tangled up and the horrible effort it took to untangle it. Spot nodded occasionally and grinned when Sweets talked about being bitten for his efforts.

The Brooklyn lodging house was similar to the Manhattan though a lot of the guys seemed like they could be intimidating if they wanted to be. 

“Hey!” Spot raised his voice to get everyone’s attention. “Manhattan’s lost track of one of it’s own so this is Sweets. He’s stayin’ here tonight, no questions asked.” He then grinned. “Oh and he’s also Birdy’s brother.”

A cheer went out over he crowd and Sweets found himself swarmed with questions. 

“What the hell happened to ya?” A voice managed to cut through the crowd. It was a girl that was maybe a few inches taller than Jack and her defined arms were an intimidating display. Sweets desperately wished Romeo was here because this girl seemed like she could and would throw him all the way back to Manhattan if he started with some line.

“That’s Hotshot.” Spot leaned in. “Second in command.”

“I was kidnapped by the Refuge and no one saw it happen.” He explained.

“And Kelly’s boys didn’t come get you?” One of the guys leaned forward to be heard. Dark wispy curls stuck out from under his cap. Interestingly he didn’t seem to have sleeves either, maybe it was a uniform thing?

“Myron.” Spot informed him. “Good kid.”

“Jack tried to find me but by the time they realized I was gone there was no trace. He had to make sure no one else went missing trying to find me.” He hoped he wasn’t about to start a problem between the factions somehow. “You know how can be.”

“How’d ya get out?” A girl shorter than Spot shoved her way to the front, her hair was in two braided pigtails and dirt was smudged across her nose.

“Smalls, she runs the Bronx but swings by here some nights for poker.” Spot noted. “Don’t play her one on one, she’ll steal everything you got.”

“Crutchie, a friend of mine, made me promise to leave if he was able to get out otherwise he wouldn’t let me look after his cuts. I didn’t really want to at the time-“

“Why not?” Smalls interrupted him. It was easy to see why she could lead the Bronx, she was commanding without even trying to be.

“Well there was still other kids in there at the time. ” Sweets shrugged. “I didn’t wanna just leave ‘em behind. Crutchie reminded me I could do more out here and that everyone thought I was dead. My friends in there agreed with him. So I snuck out while Jack broke him out.” He stared off into the distance, trying not to dwell on it. Actually leaving the Refuge on his own had been nothing short of terrifying, he was certain he would be killed if he got caught. He thought he’d get Ace killed too, just as punishment for helping him get away. Then all that fear had turned out to be over nothing, if he had just waited a little longer he wouldn’t have needed to put anyone in danger.

“Now enough swarmin’ the guy. Let’s just see how fast Smalls can take his money.” Spot patted him on the shoulder. Sweets hopped it wasn’t obvious that he’d been a little overwhelmed with the attention.

It didn’t take all that long. He didn’t exactly bet all that much of his money before Sweets got frustrated and folded his cards. 

“What do you want from me, my shirt?” He regretted it immediately thanks to the wolf-whistles. 

“Not that kinda poker, Sweetheart.” Spot winked and upped the ante between him and Smalls. 

Sweets felt like he was going to burst into flame.

“Looks like it might have to be.” Smalls called and revealed her royal flush. 

“Son of a bitch.” Spot watched as his earnings were stuffed into the girl’s hat. “Next time you ain’t allowed to wear somethin’ with sleeves. Or bring that hat.”

“Spot Conlon accusing me of cheating? I’d be insulted if I didn’t have all your money.” She put the hat on and hopped up with a flourish. “It’s been a pleasure! Anytime you find yourself in need of lighter pockets you know where to find me!”

She was followed out by one of her guys as everyone told her some variation of ‘get lost you scamming monster’ or ‘bye, get home safe’. It was a decently kind send off for someone who just robbed everyone blind.

“Have you all eaten? I could try and make something.” Sweets offered as things started to calm down. He had to pay them all back somehow. “I’m not as good as my sister but I can give it a shot.” 

A rush of excited voices spoke over the top of Spot as he tried to say something and the kids hurried Sweets into their little kitchen. It actually wasn’t half bad compared to what they had in Manhattan.

“There’s plenty of stuff to work with!” Hotshot dragged over a sack of potatoes and dumped them on the table. 

“I even got a chicken!” One of the younger kids held out a swiftly packaged bird.

“How in the hell did you afford that?” Myron looked over with concern.

“The butcher dropped it and I saw! He said I could have it if I didn’t tell anybody!” The kid puffed out her chest proudly. 

“Don’t worry, boiling it should make it safe enough.” Sweets took it and set it on the table. “Go ahead and grab whatever leftovers might go bad soon. Just about anything can go in it.” 

They ended up with some carrots that were close to drying out, some stale bread, two ears of corn, and a handful of salt. A pretty good haul all things considered. 

A hand pulled at Sweet’s shirt as he got to work. A boy, probably the youngest out of the group, was holding something behind his back. “Do you have something?”

The boy nodded but then paused and shook his head, seeming to have second thoughts about showing him.

Spot knelt down to be at eye level. “Whatcha got there, Whisper?” When Spot held his hand out the boy handed him a handful of yellow flowers. “Uh.”

“Dandelions! How clever! We can use these and you can even keep the flower.” Sweets smiled and took them from Spot. “I didn’t know you could eat these for years.” He set to washing them off. 

“Great find.” Spot ruffled the kid’s hair. “Now go make sure nobody breaks anything while they wait.”

Sweets watched the kid go with a smile. “You’re good with him.”

Spot shrugged. “Someone’s gotta be. He can hear, he just can’t speak, as far as I know.”

“Mute. You can get it from infections that rip up the throat or, ya know, things that happen.” He didn’t elaborate on ‘things’. Anyone who’d been a newsie for a while understood ‘things’. Abusive parents, going hungry, doing things you don’t want to for money, and all the other things that you don’t talk about unless it’s about to kill you.

Spot worked on the chicken quietly for a moment. “You know anything that would help? Ain’t exactly easy to sell like that…”

He grimaced. “Talking about the things.” Sweets added the leaves to the pot. “Though you’d have to do the talking. Back at the Refuge I always found that talking about things that happened to me would usually lead to the other kids feeling like they could talk about things. He probably wouldn’t say anything, especially not right away, but if it’s because of something that happened at least he wouldn’t feel different.”

“What if you don’t have anything to talk about?” Spot didn’t look up.

“You wouldn’t be here then.” Sweets paused. “My mother tried to get my father to acknowledge me when I was born but he wouldn’t. Said I was one of her other clients’ even though none of them had red hair. He tried to leave with Birdy but she wouldn’t let him. He just didn’t want to be near me. He stayed around a while but eventually when I was little I said something that pushed him away. So he left. Birdy and I had to work early because mom’s job isn’t the most stable. Especially gotta work now that two of the kids from the refuge are living with us. Everyone’s got something.”

“He just left?” Spot looked just as upset as when he had thought that Jack had abandoned him. 

“I guess I look too much like him for him to care.” He shrugged. “He comes back sometimes to see Birdy. Gives her money when he comes around.”

“That ain’t a excuse. You were just a kid.” Spot added the chicken to the pot before retreating back to the table.

“No, but it’s an explanation at least.” Sweets smiled. “I’m not that mad at him. If he’s mean enough to want to abandon us I don’t want him around. If anything the money is the only thing that would help. Then again, I wouldn’t have gotten to meet you if I didn’t need to work.”

Spot slowly went red and looked down at the food. “Still shitty of him.”

“Yeah.” He began to add a few things to the pot. 

“You ain’t missin’ nothing.” Spot eventually offered. “Havin’ a bum for a father is worse than not havin’ one.” He then laughed. “Mine thought he was entitled to my money.”

He paused. “Thought? What happened?” 

“Told him to get a job his own damn self. When he hauled off to hit me I soaked him, never been back. I got his cane around here somewhere. One of the kids probably has it.” Spot tilted his head. “Or Hotshot. She takes it sometimes.”

“You ever worried he’ll come back?” He sounded causal as he asked. 

“Nah, well, who cares? I could soak ‘em even easier.” He shrugs. 

“So you are?” Sweets prodded.

“Yeah, but it doesn’t matter.” Spot finally admitted.

Sweets grinned. 

“What?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Well you talked about a thing that bothers you cause I did. Like you want Whisper to. It worked. Almost always does.” Sweets went back to working on the food.

Spot snorted. “Sneakier than you look.” 

“Why thank you.” He stirred it carefully. 

Spot started to set the rickety table. 

Once the soup was done Sweets used the heat from the stove to toast the bread and lays it aside. He double-checked that every place has a decently equal share one last time. “I think we’re ready to release the hounds.”

Spot headed to the main room with a grin. “Hey!” 

All the noise stopped. 

“Food.” He said simply.

Sweets was thankful that he was already sitting down because the stampede shook the building. The Brooklyn boys all seemed to gravitate towards specific spots and grabbed for their food like it was going to be taken. 

“Hey!” Spot interrupted them and nearly all of the boys froze. “Thank the man!”

“Oh that’s not necessary.” Sweets tried to wave it off but was quickly buried in a sea of praise. 

Whisper even reached over to pat his arm. 

“You’re very welcome.” He could feel himself starting to blush. “Now dig in, don’t get burnt!”

The dinner was the lovely kind of chaos that Sweets knew would be the same in the Manhattan lodge around now. He listened to the guys trade stories about their days 

“So I’m makin’ eyes at this guy, right?” Hotshot started. “Pretendin’ to be flattered, whole nine yards. Thankfully he finally buys and I think I can head out.”

“Fuck.” Spot sighed.

“Hey don’t skip ahead.” She laughed. “He starts to follow me. What fun, right? Creep makes it around the first corner before I catch him in the throat. Laid him right out. I shoulda taken his wallet.”

“You shoulda sold with a partner.” He pointed out.

“They’da just gotten hurt.” She waved him off. 

“What if they got a knife one day?” Spot asked.

Hotshot reached down her shirt and pulled out a knife of her own.

“What if they brought a gun?” Spot raised his voice.

“Guess I’d get shot!” Hotshot met and raised the heat immediately.

“It’s always the children who suffer when ma and dad fight.” Myron sighed and shook his head. Some of the others giggled around him. 

Hotshot immediately began to sputter. “Oh no, that ain’t my job. That’s on the Manhattan boy Spot stole.” 

“Borrowed.” Spot clarified. “Ya can’t steal what agrees to come with you.”

“Wait, have I been conscripted?” Sweets looked around in confusion.

“You volunteered.” Hotshot used her spoon to point at him.

“…Fair.” He thought for a second. “What if you had a distant partner? Someone selling around the corner so they can hear you if something goes south? Jack does that with Crutchie sometimes when he’s havin’ bad days. That way Crutchie can still be out selling but if the pain gets too bad or if someone tries anything Jack can come sprinting around the corner.”

“That’s a good idea.” Spot ignored the astonished look Hotshot gave him. “So what’s this about Myron startin’ a damn free-for-all at the navy yard?”

Myron hopped to his feet. “How the fuck was I supposed to know they was with the same girl? All I said was “Belle’d like this story” and next thing I knew two of em were tryin’ to kill each other! A officer shoved a dollar in my hand and told me to fuck off.”

“That’s one way to sell out for the day.” Hotshot latched onto the story. “You think they’ll keep shellin’ out to keep you from comin’ back?”

“Listen, Kenny can have the spot. Knowin’ my luck they’ll both blame me.” He sighed and sat back down.

The conversation continued with Hotshot and Kenny recounting all the times that Myron had accidentally stuck his foot in his mouth and started a fight. It’s not that he couldn’t win most of them; he just never really set out to start them in the first place. The younger kids all giggled as Myron loudly debated drowning himself in his food.

Spot for the most part just listened but would occasionally interject with things like ‘ah that guy was drunk’ or ‘plenty a women wear black when they ain’t in mourning’. He seemed to be having a good enough time, but Sweets couldn’t help but notice that he looked exhausted. 

When there was a lull in the fun he leaned over to try and give Spot an out. “You don’t have to come with me but I kinda walked all over the city today…”

Spot stretched out and stood up. “No problem, let me show you where you’ll be bunking.” 

“Alright.” Sweets assumed it would be the typical bunkroom however Spot walked straight past that. He could swear that he heard whispering start up as he followed Spot up a rickety set of stairs. 

It was a bedroom for one person. In the grand scheme of things it wasn’t all that special, just a bed and an old wardrobe with a cracked mirror that had a playing card stuck in the edge. But it still reminded Sweets of Jack’s penthouse in a way. Something all their own.

“Is this the leader’s room? You sure he won’t mind?” Sweets took off his shoes and set them by the door. 

“Makin a guest sleep with all them? You’d probably catch something.” Spot then laughed to himself. “Besides, he’s takin a break for the night.”

“Oh? Like out with a girl?” He sat on the edge of the bed.

Spot pointedly looked away. “Yeah somethin like that.”

“Oh.” Sweets nodded. “That sort of break. Do you know if it’s his girl or just, any girl?”

Spot turned around to get changed. “I don’t know. Never mentioned ‘em before.” He seemed to pause before he took off his shirt and tossed it onto the wardrobe. Sweets looked away. “Prostitutes ain’t his thing though.”

“Why not?” He looked down at his sleeves and fiddled with the frayed edges.

“Could be one of their things. Nothin’ against the girls, work is work.” Spot assured him. “Just, hard to get past the idea that they don’t wanna be there.”

“W-“ Sweets trailed off when he glanced up. Bandages soaked in blood were wrapped around him haphazardly. “What happened to your back?” He hopped up and hurried over. 

“Ah, the other night someone thought they could try and get the drop on me. A cut to the back ain’t fun but it beat’s bein’ stabbed.” Spot froze in place as Sweets began to unwrap the bandages. “What are you doin’?”

“These need to be changed. You need stitches too, probably.” Sweets placed his hand on Spot’s hip as he leaned back to examine the damage. “And I need to clean it. No wonder you looked so tired.”

“It’ll be fine.” He tried to insist.

“Last time I saw a wound like that I had to amputate a kid’s finger and burn it shut.” Sweets explained. “Lay face down. I’ll be right back.” He ordered, not leaving room for protest. 

Spot blushed as he did what he was told. “There’s uh, some supplies downstairs.”

“Thank you.” Sweets rushed around to gather the supplies. It was difficult to be quick about it but also not alert anyone however he had twice as much to work with as he had in the Refuge.

When he got back he found that Spot hadn’t moved an inch. “You might want to bite down on something.” Sweets stroked his shoulder. “Here.” He slid his belt off and handed it to Spot. 

Spot stared at it like he’d never seen a belt before. “…What?”

“So you don’t hurt your teeth.” He explained. “I’ve seen people crack them while trying not to yell.”

“R-right.” He placed the leather between his teeth.

“I found liquor under one of the kid’s beds and boiled some strips of fabric.” Sweets explained as he started to wipe away the blood. “I also cleaned up a knife.”

“A knife?” Spot mumbled through the leather.

“It’s this new thing, I heard if you cut away dead tissue and stuff you won’t be as likely to get sick. Some German figured it out not to long ago. It makes sense to me. When you leave meat out you gotta cut away deadish bits and not eat it, seams like you should do that for the body too. Don’t worry, I can stitch anything I open up back shut.” Sweets paused. “This might hurt.” 

Spot gripped the bed and harshly sucked in air as he began to work directly on the cut. 

“I’m sorry, I just need to see everything.” Sweets bit his lip and tried to be quick about it. “D-do you want to maybe drink some of the..?”

Spot shook his head quickly. 

He probably just wanted to get it over with. Sweets leaned forward and put his hand on the back of Spot’s head. “I’m going to use some of it, cut a little something off, and then use more alcohol. After that I’ll put a few stitches in and we’ll be done.”

After a moment to consider Spot nodded. 

Sweets hated this part. He always did. He knew from experience it was agonizing no matter how fast or slow you went. 

He was no stranger to causing pain to make things better. He’d pushed dislocated shoulders back into place, covered cuts in alcohol, and stitched up dubious wounds. 

Most kids screamed. A lot cried. Spot just shook. 

His whole body seemed to tremble and his knuckles went white. 

It was far worse than being yelled at or someone trying to get away. It made the whole thing feel like torture. 

“There!” He pulled away excitedly when the final stitch was tied off. “Done.” He was out of breath despite having no reason to be. 

Spot just seemed to collapse. 

“You did great.” Sweets rested his hand on Spot’s arm; most kids would pull away or flinch after something like this, associate him with the pain, Spot just lifted his head and pulled the belt out of his mouth.

“Fuck.” He sounded truly exhausted.

Sweets snorted in laughter. 

“If I die or whatever after that I’m gonna be pissed.” He winced as he tried to lean up. 

“Just stay down for now.” He readjusted Spot’s pillow. “I’m gonna go see if those bandages are dry.” He pulled the sheets up to his waist.

Fortunately the bandages were ready enough. 

Spot had managed to sit up while he was out. 

“Be careful.” Sweets had him lift his arms and knelt in front of him to work from a better angle. “You should be gentle with yourself when you’re hurt.”

“Not one of my strong suits, Sweetheart.” He smiled at the blush that crept across Sweets’ face. 

Sweets found himself staring at the bandages as he wrapped them. Any higher and he was looking at a Spot’s chest. Or his lips. “Then I’ll have to make you.” He tied the bandages off with a smile. 

“You’re welcome to try.” Spot watched him intently. It was a challenge.

His mouth went dry when he made the mistake of looking up. Spot’s lips and eyes were strangely soft compared to the hard definition of nearly every other part of him. He’d like to kiss him. He knows he can’t, but he’d kind of like to. 

“I will.” He was sure his voice sounded strained. Sweets nudged Spot backwards and was pleasantly surprised when he laid down on his side without any pushback.

“You’ll have to come check on me.” He took a second to adjust himself so that he wasn’t putting any weight on the cut. “Make sure I haven’t busted myself up again.”

“I will.” Sweets promised. “I’ll even help with dinner again.” 

“I’ll walk you home after. That way Jack don’t freak out on you.” Spot decided. 

“But what if something happens on your way home? This is about making sure you get better.” He crawled into the bed himself as he argued. It wasn’t quite designed with two people in mind but it could support their weight. 

His eyebrows jumped to his hairline as Sweets curled up facing him. It didn’t take him long to offer up a compromise. “Hotshot can meet me on the bridge. She’ll find the whole thing fun as hell.”

“Alright. You also gotta promise you’ll try to avoid fighting. Let others handle it for a bit.” Sweets added.

He sighed and looked away. 

Sweets put his hand on Spot’s arm to get his attention. “I’m serious. If someone finds out you’re hurt while they’re already tryin’ to soak you they could kill you. Open up the wound, kick dirt it, anything you could imagine.”

Spot stared at Sweet’s hand long enough that he started to become self-conscious. When he went to pull his hand away Spot stopped him. “I ain’t gonna not defend myself or my boys. But I won’t start nothin’. And if I get into a fight I can assure you I ain’t gonna lose. You have my word.”

“Thank you.” He smiled brightly.

“Doctor’s orders, Sweetheart.” Spot then unceremoniously mashed a pillow into his face. “Now get some rest.”

Much to Sweets’ surprise it didn’t take that long to fall asleep. He felt just as safe here as he did in Manhattan lodging house yet he didn’t have to sleep in a separate bed. He’d gotten used to sleeping with someone right beside him in the Refuge and trying to sleep without that that warmth was lonely.

At some point during the night Spot rolled over and ended up laying on his chest. He didn’t want to move when he woke up and found him like that. Unfortunately the boy woke up on his own not too long after. 

“Ah, sorry.” He was still tired enough to be sheepish and his hair was wild. It was adorable. 

“It’s alright.” Sweets couldn’t help but play with the stray hairs that were splayed in all directions.

Spot sighed. It might have been at the affection but it was probably the fact that they would need to get up soon. “Let me buy my papes then I’ll head out with ya.” He sat up slowly. 

“Sure thing.” He was pleased to see that the bandages had stayed relatively clean. 

Spot walked over and grabbed clothes for the day. “Take this too. Consider it your passport.” He tossed him a little metal star pin. “Found it by the navy yard ages ago. You’ll be good in Brooklyn so long as you have it.” 

Sweets reached over and grabbed his hat to fix it to the side. “I love it.” He put it on. “How do I look?”

“Like Brooklyn.” He smiled. 

“Ah stop, you’re gonna make me blush.” He grabbed his suspenders off the floor.

Sweets quickly got dressed and followed Spot down. Mornings in Brooklyn were pretty much the same as in Manhattan. Some of the kids were wide-awake, some were still asleep on their feet, but most were in the middle. 

Following Spot as he sold was interesting. He had a set character for each person he met. When they went by the Navy Yard he stood carefully straight and acted like the men around him. 

“Hey kid.” Someone in a uniform called.

“Petty Officer Jacobs?” He sounded formal, commanding.

He rolled his eyes. “Oh cut the shit, I need five issues.”

“Don’t they usually send a seaman to grab papes?” Spot counted them out. 

“Hard to send someone out when they’re scrubbing latrines as punishment. Never get caught sneakin’ in late while smelling like perfume.” The petty officer handed him the money. “Who’s this?”

“Friend of mine from Manhattan.” He said simply.

“Nice to meet ya Friend from Manhattan. I’ll pretend I don’t know there’s an Ensign somewhere missin’ that.” He tapped on the side of his hat to indicate the badge.

“Um, thank you sir.” Sweets smiled.

He huffed in laughter. “’Thank you sir.’ Manhattan kids. See ya Spot. See ya kid.” 

The next person they ran into was a woman in a tight, high collared, dress. She seemed stiff all around; like the stench of the city was something she’d never gotten used to.

“Morning Miss Anderson.” Unlike with the naval officer Spot seemed almost chipper, far more child-like. “Would you like to buy a paper?” It was bizarre to hear his accent sound almost proper.

“Good morning Mr. Conlon, who might this be?” She looked Sweets over.

“I’m uh,” He glanced at Spot nervously. “I’m James Casey, ma’am. My friends don’t really call me that though, they call me Sweets.”

She seemed pleasantly surprised. “It’s nice to meet you Mr. Casey. I’m glad to see that some of your friends have manners, Mr. Conlon.” Miss Anderson then turned her attention back to Spot. “I trust you have done as I asked?” She began to dig in her purse anyway.

“Yes ma’am. I even circled an article I think you will really like.” He handed her a paper from the day before as well as one for today and she paid him for both.

“Excellent, I’ll see you tomorrow then.” She calmly folded them away and walked off. 

“Teacher.” Spot explained. “She won’t buy if you just speak normally and pays extra if you prove to her that you’re readin’ what you’re sellin’.”

“Oh, so she’s still teachin’.” Sweets nodded. 

“So, James huh?” Spot lead on. 

“No-one calls me that. Not even my family. It’s too big for me ya know? James is the name of kings and saints. Birdy and my mom just call me Jay and have forever.” He shrugged. “Now you have to tell me your name so we’re even.” 

Spot looked him over for a moment. “Repeat it and you’re a dead man.”

“Of course.” He put his hand on his heart. “You have my word.”

Spot stared dubiously for a moment. “Theodore. Theodore Sean Conlon.”

Sweets grinned from ear to ear. “That’s adoreable.”

“I’m gonna to beat you to death.” He blushed deeply even as he balled his fists. 

He couldn’t help but laugh. “No! It’s cute! I love it!” Sweets put an arm around his shoulders.

He huffed and looked away. “You still have to die.” 

“At least show me around first. That way my ghost won’t get lost.” He smiled. Talking to Spot was much easier than talking to some of the other kids, he felt like he didn’t really need to try. The others in Manhattan meant well but they were still a little overprotective of him, he knew they’d get over it in a while but it still made him feel like he was always trying to prove himself. 

As they continued on Spot gave the basic lay of the land. “The rich-types live up that way. Only head up that way if you’re young or sickly because then some well meanin’ heiress might feel so damn guilty that she buys you out for the day. Kenny usually takes the Navy Yard. Hotshot sells downtown. Myron changes it up when he can.”

“And you?” Sweets asked.

“I take Coney Island if I can. I often end up goin’ around to make sure everyone is sellin’.” He shrugged.

“Oh I’ve never been to Coney Island. I could definitely never sell there. I’d spend anything I made on salt water taffy and fudge the moment I made anything.” He knew he had a bit of a loose grip on his money so he tried to avoid temptation altogether.

“You’ve never been?” Spot raised an eyebrow. “It’s not far from Sheepshead.”

“Well usually when I go there it’s just to see Racetrack.” Honestly, he should probably explore the city more. He just preferred not to risk getting lost. His ‘compass was cracked’ as Birdy would say. Personally he just suspected that Birdy somehow took it, she could find her way home from another state in a snowstorm.

“Then that’s settled.” He nodded. “Next time you get a break swing by the lodging house and I’m taking you to Steeplechase.” 

“Really?” His eyes widened. 

“If you don’t go runnin’ your mouth about it I might even pay for your ticket.” Spot grinned. 

“Are you sure? I could always-“

“I’m sure.” Spot assured him.

Sweets thought for a moment. “You Brooklyn boys are good actors.” 

“Come again?” Spot cocked his head to one side

“Everyone says you’re all intimidating and mean but everyone I’ve ever met from here is just as nice as can be. Like hedgehogs or something that puffs up real big when something gives it trouble, acting.” He smiles. “All the guys in Manhattan are sure it’s real.”

“I’m gonna choose to take that as a compliment.” He grinned.

Sweets laughed. “Good. I definitely mean it like one.” 

When they crossed the bridge Spot didn’t show any hesitance at all. He just strolled into Manhattan like he owned the place. 

Sweets waved at Finch as they walked past. Finch just bolted. 

“You usually scare everyone off?” Spot smirked as he watched Finch run off. 

“No?” Sweets blinked in confusion before laughing. “It’s gotta to be you.”

The lodging house was surprisingly active for the middle of the day. Jack was standing in the middle of a small crowd.

The moment Spot noticed him he threw his arm around Sweets. “Hey Kelly! Forget something?”

Irritation flashed across Jack’s face before he realized what Spot was talking about. When he saw Sweets he dropped everything and ran over. He quickly checked to make sure Sweets was in one piece as the others came up behind him.

“What in the hell happened?” Concern and confusion made him almost sound like he was mad but the look on his face hinted otherwise.

“I uh,” Sweets blushed and was thankful that Spot decided to take it from there.

“Got a little sidetracked on his way to Sheepshead so we showed him a little Brooklyn hospitality.” Spot patted him twice on the shoulder.

“Brooklyn hospitality?” Jack raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah. Is it true you lost this one to the Refuge?” Spot squared his shoulders. 

“It’s complicated.” Jack said simply.

Spot folded his arms. “Comp-“ 

“I can explain later.” Sweets interrupted.

Albert’s jaw dropped, at what Sweets wasn’t exactly sure.

He nodded. “Alright. You know where to find me if Kelly misplaces ya again.” Spot gently punched him in the shoulder the same way Sweets had seen some of the other Brooklyn kids do in place of something like a hug. 

“Of course.” Sweets felt a hand on his other shoulder and Racetrack grinned behind him. The same sort of grin he had when he knew something he shouldn’t or had an idea. He didn’t even want to know. 

Jack glared at the back of Spot’s head as he left. 

The moment Spot turned the corner Sweets was inundated with questions.

“You’re gonna see him later?” “You were with Spot Conlon?” “Why didn’t he soak you?” “I bet I know why!” “First day out on your own and you’re spendin’ the night with Spot Conlon?”

As Sweets was trying to figure out who was asking what Jack stepped in. 

“Alright.” Jack interrupted. “All I care is what really happened and are ya hurt at all?”

Sweets stared blankly for a moment. “Well I’m not hurt. What’s the big deal? Everyone in Brooklyn is nice.”

“Well a course they’re nice if you’re up under their leader’s arm.” Racetrack laughed.

“Leader?” Sweets paled as he put it together. Oh, by ‘taking a break’ he meant…yeah, that made sense. He’d probably need a break too if he was running things.

“…And what happened?” Jack leaned in. 

He wanted to lie. Desperately so, he didn’t want them to think he couldn’t do his job. But Jack looked so damn worried. “I got lost.” He mumbled.

“You got lost.” Jack repeated. 

Sweets sighed. “Yes.” 

“In New York?” Jack asked in disbelief.

“Yes.” He looked down at his shoes before back up at Jack.

He broke into a grin and all the tension was lifted. “It’s a grid system!” 

When he laughed the others fell into laughing as well. Racetrack stole his hat so he could mess up his hair. 

“I’m gonna remember this next time one of youse get sick!” Sweets warned from under the pile.

**Author's Note:**

> thank u for reading about my son.


End file.
